


bodies moving with pure precision

by singlemalter



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2019, Double Penetration, M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:18:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21640225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singlemalter/pseuds/singlemalter
Summary: Overstimulation and gratuitous Gallicisms.
Relationships: Lewis Hamilton/Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen
Comments: 4
Kudos: 74





	bodies moving with pure precision

“Can he really take it?” Max asks, as though Charles isn’t capable of speaking for himself—and he hasn’t been for a while, putty in their arms, whining under his breath every time he’s touched. His head drops on to Lewis’ shoulder, and Max pulls him back by the hair. “Can you take the two of us?”

“Please,” Charles whispers. Pain and pleasure set him ablaze, the burn of Lewis’ cock and Max’s fingers overwhelming his senses, especially after a strenuous race. But he wants more, _needs_ more, the desperation for praise and approval simmering in his bloodstream until it boils over. 

“Okay,” Max says. So he gives Charles what he wants, his cock nudging Lewis’ as he pushes into Charles’ hole, impossibly intimate. He’s tight, but not too much, skirting the possible–impossible line like they do out on the tarmac, eyes concealed by the visor. Here, though, there’s no helmet to hide behind—it’s just the three of them, a king and two champions in the making, more vulnerable than mere rivals should be. 

Mindless and feverish, Charles sinks his teeth into the drawings on Lewis’ shoulder, biting the _Faith_ tattoo he adores so much. He musters all his strength to raise his head and kiss his neck, _God is love_, then the _Blessed_ inked behind his ear. Behind him, Max moves deeper, nearly halfway into Charles’ body, and he can’t breathe, they’re tearing him apart, please, please, _s’il te plaît_—

Lewis raises a finger to Charles’ lips and kisses his temple, shushing him with the tenderness of a real lover, not a fierce competitor looking for an easy outlet. It almost fools him, tricks his yearning heart, but Charles is a seasoned veteran of off-track romances; he knows this is but a simulacrum of true affection. A royal with six crowns atop his head owes nothing to a poor man’s winner, anyway. 

“There we go, almost there,” Lewis says, and Charles can’t help crying, in spite of the thorough preparation Max’s offered him. The combination of an entirely new sensation and Lewis’ words push him closer to the edge with every second, tears washing off the faint makeup on his cheeks. “You’re doing so great, man, don’t worry, all right?”

“Fuck,” Max says, pressing his lips to Charles’ neck. “You feel so good. Come on, relax.”

_Easier said than done_, Charles thinks. He takes a deep breath in, out, shoulders slowly sagging. He allows himself to go limp between the two bodies sandwiching him, the low noise of late-night celebrations and air conditioners fading into the background. Nothing else matters; he sinks into the easy kindness of Lewis’ gaze and the relentless hunger of Max’s hands, blissful, calm, quiet. 

“Give me more,” Charles says, his tone so petulant he hears Xavi scold him. But he doesn’t care—Lewis and Max are going to light him up from the inside out, the class of 2019 is dismissed, and the ache in his bones is sweeter than rose water. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from _Macro_ by Depeche Mode: “See the microcosm in macro vision / Our bodies moving with pure precision / One universal celebration / One evolution / One creation.”
> 
> Very gratuitous porn. I don’t even have anything to add. 
> 
> singlemalter on Tumblr.


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